not long ago

childhood and female rage

not long ago, i was still a kid.
i can't remember much from those years
but i can feel that little girl somewhere around here.

not long ago, i was still a kid
but i was mature for my age
so, have things really changed?

not long ago, i was still a kid
and i loved flowers
not because they were pretty
but because they knew how to rot;

and i loved red
for blood
and not because it was close to girly pink
but because it looked the same way
my rage felt like;

and i loved music,
loud music,
louder than my thoughts,
louder than the voices behind the door;

and i loved snow
because my hands were also always cold,
because that white hell always felt like home;

and i loved poetry
not because it taught me how to love
but because it let me put a curse on anyone;

and i loved i loved i loved,
too much, never enough;
the kid hid away
not long
and took everything with
and i still
don't know,
where did
she go?

Reviews

[emmajoygreen]

Such an intense poem, more negatives than positives.. Perhaps is time to find the latter, not search for that young gir. She spent so much time in the dark; never happy to find brightness and calm.
Youth is a muddle, most adults can and do recall their earlier feelings. It is a time to find what seems best for self, find honest reactions from inside self. But, for me, it was and even now is a time to find even snatches of happiness because if happy with self, one can be happy with others. This is a very special poem. you have laid out your feelings, tis time to see the best rather than the dark, perhaps.
Am here if ever needed.